


The Biscuit Incident

by Killjoy785



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Anal, Dubious Consent, Explicit Language, Frustrated Irkens, Gir - Freeform, M/M, Misuse of pastry dough and science, Original Character(s), Porn Without Plot, Tentacles (sort of), biscuit dough, insane robots with their heart in the right place, invader zim - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-21
Updated: 2013-09-21
Packaged: 2017-12-27 05:26:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,967
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/974960
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Killjoy785/pseuds/Killjoy785
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My take on why biscuits are a sensitive subject for Zim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Biscuit Incident

**Author's Note:**

> My very first and only attempt at "Invader Zim" slash. There is a scene that needs explaining. It's from "The Girl Who Cried Gnome":
> 
> Gir: "You gonna make biscuits? You gonna make biscuits?! You gonna make biscuits?!?! Yoooou gonna make biiiscuiiiiits??!?"
> 
> A cold look comes over Zim's already grim face.
> 
> Zim: "No, GIR. Never. I never want you to mention biscuits ever again."
> 
> Gir: *OMGWTF face*
> 
> I often wondered what that was about. Why are biscuits a forbidden thing to Zim? Why? WWHHHYYYY?!?!?
> 
> Here's why. I apologize in advance.

Electrical synapses fired in a cacophonous storm of chaos and delirium, all focusing on a small green figure concentrating at a lab table, watching with the stance of a stalker standing in the rain outside a window. Staring creepily.

Gir recalled being yelled at for doing something. Couldn't quite remember for what though. Possibly related to the latest loud, explodey noises and that wonderful, colorful, burning stuff...what was it...fire?

They sooo needed more of that! It tickled. Gir stifled a giggle, then exploded into helpless peals of laughter as he recalled flames licking at him.

These were only a few of the many disjointed things stampeding through the circuitry that made up what Gir was thinking. 

He also replayed the image of his master screaming at him in his funny shrieky way. Was master upset? Sad, maybe?! Gir's giggling paused and he became somber, resuming his vigil. He did not want that. He wanted master to be happy. Maybe he needed more fire. That would usually make him run around screaming, one of the few activities they could share. They could be happy together.

Maybe he could make waffles? No. Last time they had waffles, master lost 78% of his skin. Apparently, master was fond of his skin. Who knew?

Images flashed through Gir's head, focusing on words like "happy" then became distracted as he replayed a television commercial he had observed. A family of humans eating at a table. They had gone into ecstatic convulsions after biting into a small pastry.

"Biscuits!", the man in the commercial had screamed before passing out with a groan. He'd seemed happy. There had been a rictus of a grin on his face anyway.

"Biscuits make you scream with unadulterated pleasure", a female's voice had hissed irresistibly as the man's hand wavered unsteadily from the floor before dropping out of view and the commercial ended.

"Make the biscuits", a drawling, cowboy voice whispered electronically in Gir's conscious, "Make the best goddamn biscuits this side'a the Rio Grande."

Gir nodded in obedience to one of the many voices in his head. Laughter suddenly floated from his master's direction, making Gir grin slowly.

See? Master liked this idea already.  
\------

Zim's teeth gritted, refocusing at the task before him, coughing a little. His excited laughter had hurt his throat a little but he couldn't help it. This...this was genius! He ignored also that his body ached, being in this hunched over position as his concentration had intensified. He couldn't afford any distractions, not even if it was from himself. 

His red eyes narrowed further into glittering ruby slits as he observed the awesomeness he had almost completed. And now to test it...and of course it would work. It had come from his amazing hands of his amazing...ness...after all.

His PAK opened, a slim arm extending and retrieving a small tray with a set of needles. Without looking up he carefully plucked up one of the syringes.

The glowing concoction in the dish before him quivered as he delicately inserted the very tip of a needle, for some reason holding his breath although his PAK breathed for him, and withdrew a teensy bit of the stuff. With another PAK leg, he carefully set the dish aside and, using another leg, retrieved his test subject--a small, pig-shaped rubber chew toy. Teeth biting on his lower lip, he shakily injected the pig with the concoction. Then he let go of the breath he had been holding, his red eyes wide and staring expectantly at the small toy.

Nothing.

He suddenly heard a small, groaning, straining noise and realized it was himself. He had been willing the experiment to work so badly that his body shook. But no amount of silently screaming "WORK, PIGGY--WOOOOORK!!!!!" would bring the unmoving pig-shaped rubber thing to life.

"DAMN IT--AUGH!!!"

In his rage, Zim straightened up to shake his fists at the uncaring ceiling and immediately his spine made a questionable noise. He gasped in pain and went down. Bent at an awkward angle, he became aware of Gir staring at him. Creepily.

"Gir! I thought I told you not to come into the lab!", Zim snapped, awkwardly trying to straighten himself up and biting back a whimper when his spine refused, "I've been engulfed in flames enough for today."

The computer was already trying to rebuild part of the lab after Gir had vomited melted cheese into one of the many unstable pieces of machinery. Adding cheese did nothing to help the stability.

Gir said something unintelligible and Zim's antennae perked a little.

"What?", his master responded absently, still occupied with straightening his back.

Suddenly the SIR unit was at his feet. Robotic little hand-clamps gripped the sides of the Irken's head and two large, glowing circles illuminated Zim's annoyed face with eerie aqua.

"Gonna make biscuits...", the robot said in hushed awe.

"Gir, let go of--"

"I'M GONNA MAKE BISCUUUUIIIITS!!!", GIR screamed as though this is what they were looking for--THIS was the answer to all of their problems--life, the universe, EVERYTHING would be accounted for because Gir was going to do some baking.

Zim sighed, his eyes closing, "That's good, Gir. Now LET GO OF MY FACE!!"

The little robot nodded slowly and complied. The Irken invader glared down at him coldly.

"If you touch me again, I will fill that head of yours with rocks and drop you in the deepest part of this wretched planet's disgusting oceans."

"You promise?"

"Oh, yes, Gir", his master said ominously, eyes narrowing, "I promise. That would at least keep you occupied and OFF MY NERVES for a few precious moments."

Gir took a step back, trembling with excitement, then ran away, his hysterical laughter echoing through the labs and through Zim's head. The invader looked after his SIR unit with some contempt, then at the rubber piggy on the lab table, still and unmoving. 

Failure? What had gone wrong? 

This stuff was supposed to bring inanimate objects to life and would obey the first words it heard. Zim had had wonderful daydreams of the Dib's coat strangling its owner or his pants walking him off a building. But now, it looked as though those would remain dreams. 

With a determined look on his face, he straightened his spine forcibly, earning himself a pop from shifting bone and a rather pathetic whimper. It was getting late. He hadn't even called the Tallest for report today but what to report? Today had been one of failure, headache, and burning. He stalked away and threw himself down in his chair front of his surveillance screens, sulking. The stink of burnt cheese and wires was making him nauseous.

\--

The blanket of white powder was everywhere, blanketing the kitchen as though under a fine dusting of cocaine. In the middle of it, Gir stirred his little heart out of a large mixing bowl. The robot went over the ingredient list in his head: flour he had wrestled from robotmom, soap, eggs, fuzzy stuff from under the couch, melted butter, melted cheese, they were out of moose so he'd had to use some eggs he found outside...but there was one more thing to complete this masterpiece...make it extra special...what was it?

After an hour of going in and out of focus from its goal, Gir found himself in the lab and found something wonderful--a small, abandoned rubber piggy. Excitement from finding such a treasure caused sparks to fly from his head, electrocuting the rubber toy. Small oinking noises floated up from his hand as the toy wriggled in his grip. He ignored that the miracle of life had occurred inexplicably in his hands.

"Be quiet, piggy, or IMMAEATCHOO!"

Cackling, he ate the tiny pig anyway, giggling as it ran around silently in his insides.

Zim perked up at the sound of his robot servant and looked over his shoulder in the chair, shooting him an evil glance.

"Not now, Gir. Go upstairs and stay there until I stop thinking about deactivating you."

"OKIE DOKIE!!"

The robot turned and was about to jet into the lift when a small dish of quivering, glowing stuff caught his eye. He grabbed it as he flew past.

"Best biscuits this side of the Rio Grande", whispered the cowboy in his head again. Gir grinned and squealed in agreement.  
\--- 

Another hour later...

The towering biscuit dough dripped bits of itself onto the floor climbing out of the microwave, which was already smoking. The smell of electricity was thick in the air. Gir smiled up at the expanding, gloopy mess. It groaned and dribbled at the robot.

"You make my master happy!", the tiny robot demanded. Commercial images of biscuits ran through his programming, "Make him--"

Gir twitched and opened his mouth and a recording of the woman's sensual voice from the commercial came out, "--'scream with unadulterated pleasure'...so we be happy an' go fishing with gramma an' grampa an'--"

The microwave exploded, interrupting them. Flaming shrapnel went everywhere. A look of joy crossed Gir's shrapnel-impaled face. 

"YAY, BURNING!!!" 

The robot danced happily around the burning kitchen. Sirens sounded and lights flooded the area in red. It was not long until Zim made his way up.

"GIR!", Zim yelled over the chaos, "What have you done now--"

But it was rather obvious. Gir was a flaming, fiery figure that turned its head slowly with a wide grin at the horror on his master's face, "LOOK'ITME! LOOK'IT ME I'M BUUUUUURNIIIIIIING!!!!!"

The unit cackled and Zim ordered the computer to put out the fire before stalking towards his burning robot.

"Is it not enough that I have a world of unworthy stink-beasts to ground under my heels of superiority? Is it not enough that the Tallest are trusting us to bring down this sad joke of a planet and we are still so far from doing so!? THAT THE FATE OF EVERYTHING IRKEN RESTS ON MY INEVITABLE VICTORY?! DO YOU HAVE TO BURN DOWN THE FUCKING BASE AS WELL!? DO YOU?!?"

Gir paused break-dancing at the shrieking volume that made it over the sirens, "Master--"

"DO YOU!?!"

"You're not happy, Master?"

Zim's glare deepened pointedly at his robot slave, "No, Gir. Master is NOT happy--"

"I make you happy! I make you squeal like my piggy!"

A small pig suddenly ejected from the top of Gir's head and the robot presented it like an offering. He shook it at Zim's suddenly interested face.

"SQUEAL, PIGGY, SQUEAL!!!", the robot demanded desperately. 

The rubber pig squealed obediently, then leapt out of the burning robot's hand into the flames and the smell of rubber bacon added to that of melting kitchen and circuitry. Zim watched the pig disappear into the inferno, a brow cocked. That piggy looked familiar...

"...where...where did you get that?"

He went speechless as a giant mass of pastry dough stepped out from the wild shadows the fire was making.

"MASTER, MASTER!!!", Gir shrieked, pointing at Zim before the computer spouted a powdery substance at the robot to smother the flames shooting out of its head and mouth.

Zim stared up at this new...thing..., taking a wary step back, then gasped as he recognized the dish from his experiment floating around what might have been the creature's face, serving as a single giant, glass eye.

"My experiment? Gir! You--you didn't--!!"

The creature bent low as though examining him, bits of runny dough plopping around them. Then it formed a mouth. It smiled. Zim felt his skin scrawl.

"Unnnadulllterrrated p-p-plllleassssuuuuuuuure", it droned at him, spitting a little.

It grabbed at him with terrible, gooey arms. Zim balked, then dodged it, leaping for the trash can in the kitchen through a wall of flames to get into the lower base. All at once, the sirens and Gir's shrieking laughter faded.

He growled. Well, at least the experiment worked. He could include that in his report to the Tallest. The base would repair the kitchen area. As for Gir, he still had to figure out how the robot made it work. And, to be honest, this was not the most damage the little robot had done to the base. But he had to make some adjustments to--

Something wet plopped on his head.

"Hm?", Zim said, annoyed to be distracted from his thoughts before looking up and horror smashed through his face. Again.

The dough monster had leaked through the shaft of the lift and was forcing itself into the tiny elevator chamber.

Security! Computer! Protect your master!

This is what Zim had wanted to scream, had biscuit dough not spurted through in a thick arc and covered his face and mouth. He flailed around wildly, smashing into the walls of the elevator blindly. By the time they had reached the labs and the elevator doors opened, he was covered in an off-white, gooey mess, dragging himself to the computer console.

Tendrils of goo wrapped around his mouth and head, silencing and half blinding him. His PAK was jammed, covered in dough. The stuff was relentless, seeping under his clothes and gloves and--

His doughy gag prevented him from gasping out loud as the stuff expanded under the fabric of his clothes, ripping through his red shirt and pants and gloves. The oiliness made his skin slick and his now ungloved fingers clawed uselessly at the floor without friction. All he had left on were his boots and a few shreds of his pants.

He needed the computer! Or even Gir! 

Wildly, he tried un-gagging himself, claws scrabbling over the dough on his mouth but the more he managed to scrape off, the more replaced it. And now, the dough was...doing...something...

It had formed tentacles and more tiny tendrils. All of which were...caressing him? He felt them slide between his legs and slither back and forth. He cringed and renewed his struggling and managed only to get on his back before the dough covered his wrists and ankles, holding him still.

"What...what are you doing?", came a deep, horrified electronic voice.

The computer! Zim opened his uncovered eye and babbled muffled noises at the computer.

"Oh...oh, man...", Computer said falteringly, obviously disturbed, "I'm going to...throw up...or I would, if I could. Just letting you know the kitchen is no longer on fire. I'm working on rebuilding that, too. Uh, I'll let you--guh....do your thing."

Zim shrieked and shook his head but the computer had focused elsewhere. 

The dough had started lightly traveling along his body, now shiny and oily, stroking his sides and his inner thighs as he struggled. What was it doing? What did it want??

He went pale as the dough forced his legs apart, tiny, doughy tongues lapping and squirming against a normally neglected slit between his thighs. He felt a bead of sweat form and fall down the side of his face, absorbed by the goo. He squirmed, trying to close his legs, but he could already feel his body responding--a tingling beat, the lips of his slit twitching and constricting against the stimulation.

Oh. No.

Zim shut his eyes and groaned, helpless as a wave of pleasure spread through him, the tip of his cock peeking through the top of the slit and its shaft flexing as it unsheathed itself, standing hard and defiant between his legs. The dough grew more finger-like appendages that stretched around his cock and jerked it up and down before swallowing it in dough. Zim made a muffled squeak as what felt like a tongue and mouth slurped and slobbered around him. 

He realized his face and head were growing hot and his body was growing lax, nerves almost humming with the result of all this stimulation. He realized his computer had checked in on him again, probably to update him on the progress of the kitchen, then had made a nauseous moan and gone away again. He realized he would definitely have to do something about Gir if the robot had been able to create a horny monster made from biscuit dough and liquified nano-bots.

He also realized it had been such a long, long time. Very long. 

Being an amazing invader took its toll. Made him neglect himself...

Tendrils of goo started caressing his hips and ass. He moaned into the dough, the creation lifting him off the floor and keeping him in the air, his arms and legs spread wide. He could feel tiny appendages exploring, looking for something to stick themselves into, and, upon finding it, probing curiously until Zim reacted with another muffled gasp, his head thrown back as more appendages joined in. 

Finally, it had formed a well-sized tentacle that pushed slowly into him, other tentacles lifting his legs up so his ankles were level with his head. And it began pulling him up and down on the penetrating tentacle, slow at first, going with his reactions, which were quite shameless. A blush blazed across his cheeks and his eyes, half-lidded, were dulled with pleasure. 

His arms were brought behind his back, still held securely with dough. His legs were splayed out and the dough let gravity sink him onto the tentacle slowly. He moaned louder, raw, and the dough did it again, now controlling him so he sunk up and down on it faster. At the same time, the dough sucked at his cock loudly and fervently. Tiny tendrils lapped at his antennae, caressed his temples like an adoring lover.

He could feel an irresistible beating within him as the dough prodded inside him, searching for spots that made him twist and keen and focusing on them once they were found. It was getting harder to think. All he could focus on was how good it felt. He was getting so light-headed. The noises coming out of his mouth were getting louder and less controlled. He suddenly went limp as the dough continued fucking him, his head swaying drunkenly.

//That fucking robot//, Zim thought venomously underneath the veil of euphoria, //That FUCKing robot! This is IT! I am so...SO going to...//

The dough tentacle suddenly picked up the pace, slamming into him and his eyes opened wide, startled and confused as pleasure blossomed up like the last gush of bubbles from a drowning human.

Sensation crested and exploded, his body stiffening as a scream welled up and broke through the doughy gag. He screamed out his pleasure but also years of pent up frustration and lack of physical contact that did not involve pain intended to hurt or subdue him leaked through, as well as the isolation, the loneliness. He screamed at all of it and it was almost more than his body could take, his spine arching and his throat already so sore from his regular screaming. 

The dough was already loosening its grip, its mission completed, and Zim slithered to the floor like an Irken rag doll. He felt lighter and dizzy as he lay there, unmoving and staring at the ceiling amidst the sullied, inanimate dough. Until two blue orbs peered down at him.

"Oh, Gir. It's you", Zim said almost conversationally.

The robot grinned and kept grinning even as, with movement quicker than inferior human eyes could follow, his master grabbed his face and pinned him to the floor beneath him. The violated, slightly greasy Irken invader was trembling with rage, his eyes narrowed in tiny, evil red slits and his teeth clenched so tightly they ground together painfully.

"Girrrrr..."

"You make me the happiest jelly baby in all the land, Master!"

"S-scrap. Metal. Gir."

"--cuz now you're not sad and whiney! It hurts my face when you sooo saaaaad!"

Zim paused in his declarations of destruction, "Sad? Zim? What nonsense are you speaking now?"

"Me an' my friend--"

"Friend? What friend?", Zim snapped, looking around in paranoia.

"The cowboy."

Zim's brow raised as it typically did when he attempted translating his robot's insane babbling.

"Okaaay...", Zim said hesitantly before adopting an overlord bearing once more, "I'll allow you to plead your case but not because your...dough...monster...thing...eh..."

"...made you squeal like a piggy?"

"SILENCE! Zim's squeals are those of MAJESTY! Not of piggyness!"

Gir smiled coyly, "Noooo, I seen you. You looked so happy! I told him to make you happy. You happy?"

"...Gir, are you telling me you released a horrible tentacle sex creature after me because you thought I was sad? Is this what you are telling me?"

"Rio Grande!", Gir replied, as though this were obvious.

"...you lost me."

Gir sighed as though explaining something very simple to a dull child, "You feel gooooooooood now? You ain't saaaaad nooo mooooore--?""

"Gir, I wasn't sad. I was FILLED WITH UNSPEAKABLE RAGE", Zim said before blinking and running a quick check on himself, "But...now I feel...okay...just sticky."

His SIR unit clapped happily and Zim turned back to it sternly, "I want you to listen very carefully. You are never ever ever EVer to do this again. And you are to mention this to no one. Ever. Not even me. If you follow this, you will make your master happy."

"Like a sheep?!", Gir asked incredulously.

"Eh? Uh...sure, why not, yes."

Zim stood, releasing the robot and sighing. He really did feel better. Relaxed, even. He really had needed that. And his robot had only been looking out for his well-being...

"Let us go for a walk, Gir. Maybe stop by that disgusting taco place."

"TACOS?! How did you know?!", Gir gasped, already in the dog-suit.

"You only scream the word every few minutes", Zim muttered under his breath before announcing, "I shall get cleaned up and then we go to tacos. "

He turned to leave, then regarded his robot once more before hesitantly patting him on the head. 

"You do...okay...sometimes, Gir."

\------

"Zim!"

Zim looked up casually, noting Dib standing before him in a heroic, pointing stance.

"Oh. Hey", Zim replied, dragging his bean covered dog behind him.

"Don't give me that! I know you're up to something! You can't...fool...hey, where are you going?"

"Hm?", Zim said blankly, walking past him, "To the base. Why?...oh, oh right--ahem--death to humans, gonna destroy you all, muhuhahaha and all that."

He stretched languidly and looked at Dib, "Better?"

Dib refused to be taken off guard by the alien's strange behavior, "What are you planning? I know you've got something horrible up your sleeve! Just know I'll always be there to stop you!"

"Yeah, yeah. Look, I'm gonna go. Just taking a break", Zim said before pausing and looking around almost brightly, "Y'know. Today, your planet doesn't seem as horrible."

"Oh. Thanks. I guess."

"Still gonna destroy it, of course."

"Of course."

"Yep", Zim continued, looking around, "Just not today."

Without another word, he strolled away. Strolled. As though just out for a walk and not out on a reconnaissance mission, like Dib was sure he was. He stared after him, then saw his little side-kick had stayed behind and was giving him a long, solid stare with those soulless dog eyes.

"You don't look happy, Big-Head Boy."

Dib raised a brow, then let out a yelp as Gir grabbed his coat and pushed their faces together.

"Maybe one day I'll make you biscuits, too", it said cryptically.

"Gir!", came his master's call, "Stop playing with the smelly Dib!"

Gir stepped aside, nodding at Dib as though they shared an understanding, then ran toward the house as Dib stared after it. After a while, Dib stood and shrugged.

"Well...I do like biscuits...", Dib said more to himself as he turned and walked away...

...not seeing Gir pause and giggle quietly before entering the house.

 

\--END--

**Author's Note:**

> That was...nice (?) of Gir. Looking out for his master like that (I guess?) And, Hell, sometimes after a bad day, you just need to get laid. Hope you enjoyed! Please know I screamed the entire time while writing this! I can definitely use some pointers as far as writing their characters -_-;; Zim seemed a little OOC at the end and Gir seemed too with it, though I wanted to avoid writing Gir as a brainless taco monster. Dib seemed too in-character, I dunno. But this may be my only IZ porn that I write. Not sure. Anywho, thanks for reading :D


End file.
